Wicked Games: The closet
by hogwartshoodlum
Summary: Ever played seven minutes in heaven? Well, a mysterious 'gameskeeper' at Hogwarts has decided that the students should all be given the oppurtunity to play, whether they want to or not. Rules: No names, no wands, and seven minutes. Who's playing now?


Most knew it as 'the closet', the room where people learned more than Hogwarts had ever taught them. Most knew that it only appeared to the players of the game, while a select few knew better, but kept it to themselves. It was the secret that made it the most appealing. No one knew when they would be asked to play, but all of the students over fifth year knew that they're card would one day lead them to 'the closet'. No one spoke of what went on inside, and no one knew who was the mysterious games keeper that summoned the players, but there was only one way out of the games. Detention. And it had to be legitimate. Somehow they would know, the keepers of the cards, and no one wanted to find out what happened when you chickened out.

She had been summoned from her sleep, holding onto the card that had read her fate, and now she stood quivering in front of the door way, not knowing where it was going to lead.

_The Closet, 11:20 P.M. on the 28th._

Her card had been served to her with this mornings breakfast and she hadn't been givin that much time to figure out how to get out of it. She couldn't, no matter how hard she tried, get a detention since it was the weekend and she wouldn't even be in class, and she seemed to talk herself out of everything she could have done on the grounds, so now, here she stands, uncertain of her fate, her hand on the doorknob. Shivering, she turned over the cardstock in her hand.

_Player two,_ that meant that she would be met inside by player one, _rules: no wand, no lights, no names. seven minutes._

_Seven minutes. Starting now, _she thought as she pushed open the door. _I can do this._ She closed the door behind her, the click sealing her fate as she heard a deeper breathing fill the black behind her.

"Hello?" she whispered, and placed her hand up to her mouth at the sound. It wasn't her voice that she heard echo off the walls. _Of course,_ she thought. _If we can't use names, then it only makes sense that we couldn't hear each others real voice._ She also noticed, as she sighed deeply, that her other senses had heightened with the loss of her sight. She inhaled deeply, trying to figure out who stood beside her in the dark, and noticed a strong scent of wood. Strong broomstick, and yet something sweet underlying. The smell calmed her. She felt, for the first time since closing the door, safe. Guards were let down. She began to embrace the darkness. No one would ever have to know...She smiled unseen in the dark, as she realized the great gift that the shadows had provided her.

^___^

Breakfast was dreadful. His stomache turned over gritty sausage, and sourdough biscuits that neither appealed to or pleased his hunger. He turned the smooth card over and over again under the table, already well aware of what it said, and knew that the day would be much too long. His friends talked around him of Quidditch and ladies, but he couldn't even find a way to get excited over his favorite subjects.

Several hours later, at 11:00 p.m. he found himself staring at the bare wall of the seventh floor corridor fully aware of what was expected of him. He watched as the worn wood appeared out of the brick and stepped forward to twist the worn brass knob.

Forever seemed to pass as he waited for the door to open again. No light peered in from the hallway as the wood creaked against it's hinges. No silouete appeared as the person he knew was coming entered. The only thing that announced her presence was her scent, now strong to his hightened senses.

And he knew he must have her.

Seven minutes. That's all the time they'd have if they didn't want to get walked in on. He had to move quickly. He noticed that her breathing had quickened. The room heightened senses, wants and needs, a spell cast by the 'games keepers' and changed voices so that you would not be discovered. This was not his first time playing, nor would it be his last, but he had never felt the pull of the room so strongly as this time.

He reached out, startled to find her closer then he thought she would be, his hand resting easily on her shoulder, or what he suspected was her shoulder, and found her to be breathing very heavily. He noticed a twitch in his fingers, a slight moment of nerves, but it was suddenly washed away as the salty smell of sex filled the room.

^___^

It wasn't as if she was easy, not at all. She had only ever been with one man before, and then only once, but something of the idea of no one knowing, and of her being able to scratch the itch she had dwelt on since her first time, made her feel excited. They must have already lost two or three minutes just trying to adjust to the darkness, and she suddenly knew that she would need all five minutes left. She closed her eyes, trying to picture him in her head, but for some reason, she kept loseing the image. She couldn't picture him anymore, even after spending nearly every day with him, she wasn't sure that he looked the same in the dark. _It's probably the best rule that they have, _she thought, _No names means no mistakes._

She wasn't positive who she was about to share herself with, but, the good thing was, they couldn't be sure who they were with either. She reached down and grabbed her pajama bottoms, slipping them over her waist and allowing them to drop to the floor. She inhaled as her scent overpowered anything in the room, and she knew that he would be able to find her.

She jumped slightly as she felt his hands on her thigh, moving slowly up and down as if to introduce himself to her skin. His hands were rough, and yet, she found them to be extreamly sensual. Each rough patch and blistered palm reminded her, since until then she couldn't be certain, that she was in the hands of a man.

Soft lips found thier ways to her knee, gently kissing as they inched higher up her thigh. She tried to find a wall to lean against as her legs began to melt to his touch. His hands were so rough and yet so tender. She had never felt such a perfect match and she reached down, desiring to fill them more.

^___^

He felt her hand reach for his own and knew that he was being invinted to continue. The only thing that he was sure of in the dark was exactly where he was being led to next. He felt her cool, slick, mound throb under his finger and felt himself raise against his pants. He wished that he had thought to remove them before getting so involved but that turned out to not be a concern as a second pair of hands began fondling his button, unlatching it from it's denim clasp. He stood, turning over his hand to place his palm firmly on her clit, and allowed his pants to drop heavily to the ground.

He felt his errection be firmly grabbed by soft hands he could tell were treading in unfamiliar territory. "You're ready, right?" He heard, in a voice he couldn't begin to recognize.

"Ready if you are," his own voice was scratchy and much deeper than his own. He imagined her just the way he knew her to look, every detail perfect. He knew that it _had_ to be her. And in his mind, it would be.

^___^

She hissed as she felt him enter her, still sore from her first and not at all used to the fittings of men. She felt her stomach clench, trying to push him back and she felt him resist the very thing her body burned so desperatly for. It seemed to last hours, but she knew that it was only seconds before the burning ended and she was thankful that he had kept his place. She reached over, grabbing a lock of his hair as she lifted her leg to rest against his hip. His hand found its way underneath her firmed butt and helped to lift her, up and down, up and down, sliding roughly over his stiff mast. She felt his free hand lift the thin fabric of her pajama top, searching for her breasts which he easily found, massaging them gently, and bringing her to moan, knowing that she would give anything to give them more time. She had never felt so much at one time, never knew so much pleasure. She had to find a way to know how to make sure that she could find this feeling again.

^___^

She was so soft, so pure. He knew that he hadn't just taken her virginity, but it couldn't have been far off. She was still tight, still uncertain, and he was enjoying ever thrust into her unexperienced regions. She held onto him so tight, inside and out, and he felt that she was enjoying every move that he made. He had never felt he belonged somewhere so much as he did right now. She was where he belonged. Where he was always meant to be. He was just trying to figure out a way to be certain he had thought she was the right one when he felt his head be roughly grabbed, a chunk of hair roughly ripped from his scalp. The pain made him jump, slamming her into the back wall of their limited space, and the gasp from her chest made him realize that she hadn't expected to play so rough.

_Well,_ he thought, _she started it._

His acheing scalp led the way as he slammed harder into her core, thrusting her against the wall, thought not as hard as the first time. He felt the nobbed circle of her center becoming a closer and closer target, signeling to him that she was enjoying this new game. He grabbed at her other leg, pulling her compleatly off of her feet and straddled across his waist as he plunged deeper. Her gasps had become moans and her moans were becoming screams as he felt she was coming closer. It wasn't until he heard her expression of explosion that he realized that he too was ready for release. As he felt her spasm around him, he made several more thrusts to finish his seven minutes just as he had planned. If not for the the silencing spells on the room, he was sure that the entire castle would be waiting just outside the door when they finally excited.

As his heart continued to pound and the sweat dripped into his eyes, he began to regret the end of their games. He was never to know who she was, never was she supposed to find out who he was.  
He had never thought that he would know something so deeply, that he would even care if she saw him again, but something in his heart told him that he should know.

^___^

She stepped out of the closet first, fully dressed and ready for bed, her right hand clasped tightly as she returned to her bed. She pulled the hangings closed around her so that she could try to repeat the seclusion of the closet. She quivered when she heard the door to the common room open, but was sure that she would remain uninterupted. Slowly, she opened her hand to reveal her treasure from the closet.

"Oh my God."

^___^

For several minutes he sat in the darkness, not wanting to leave where her smell still lingured.  
The last few moments that he would know that she was near. As the minutes crept by he realized that he wasn't going to be able to stay awake much longer. He stepped out, ready to return to his common room. As he looked down to make sure that he was all put back together he noticed a hair that did not belong to him sticking to the button of his jeans. As he pulled it free, he felt his breath catch in his throat. "_ It's like Cinderella, "_ he thought. He pulled the hair up closer to examine the color. _Just have to find who..._

"Granger." His voice caught as he was sure that the curly brown hair could belong to no one else.

^__^

Hermione sat on her bed, her mouth open and her eyes near to tears. In the palm of her hands lay the very reason for her silence. Six strands of platinum hair. Hermione knew that breakfast tomorrow would be just has hard as it had been today.


End file.
